Duty
by ImGoingToSleep
Summary: Aveline lives for duty. Then one night, one elf starts to convince her otherwise. Bad summary, please just give it a chance. Aveline/Merrill, a lil lesbian lovin'. So don't like, don't read. Rated for language. Reviews would very appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

**I give to you this little morsel that has been hanging around in the dark corners of my laptop for a while now. Want to see how much love people will have for this pairing. They deserve more! Un-betaed, so probably a few mistakes lurking about but I needed to get it out. **

**Oh yeah, and some love occurs between two women up ahead so if you don't like that then... why are you here?**

**Edited - A/N: After some really helpful feedback, I decided to go over the chapter and redo it. I still suck at diologue, but I gave it a fair bash. So hopefully it reads better now! **

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My lone patrol carries me deeper through the thin streets, scattered passageways like veins pushing me closer to the beating heart of Lowtown in ever vigilant circles. The alleyway I find myself in now is one of the more narrow ones. The like where I can easily reach out and press my palms against both walls, something I go to do now. I shake my head and drop my hands back down to be ready at my sides. It's times like these that I'm grateful I can schedule my own routes, giving myself the perk of solitude. In a pair, this route would be stifling.

Breathing in surprisingly fresh night air, I take a moment to pause and inspect the path I walk. The lack of filth is a great difference to the usual smothering stench of poverty that haunts the daylight hours, generated from the foul heat trapped between the dirt-encrusted hovels. Compared to that image, it looks spotless. An illusion cast down by the pale moonlight, but an illusion nonetheless that the order I strive for daily might be having an impact.

I sigh, the soft noise drifting off into the distance. It mingles with the echoes of drunken revelry most likely leaking out from The Hanged Man. Drawing my attention back into my surroundings, the only noise in the near vicinity is the slightest creak of my armour. I pause and tighten one of the leather straps. Although the years may have attuned my body to donning metal, almost to the point it is more comfortable than my own skin, the cold does seem to get to me more than usual lately.

The previous night, I had let this observation slip over a few drinks with Isabela, gaining the response I should have expected from the lecherous pirate. It had followed the line of needing to cosy up to another warm body to cure my 'ailment'. Ha, for a fleeting moment I had thought she was about to offer up her own, oft-used and well-practiced, services but was saved by the timely entrance of one Ser Hawke. Her eyes had clouded over at his appearance. Only briefly, but it was enough to give me the chance to slip away.

Still, her comment hasn't escaped me entirely, niggling at the back of my mind as I walk along, rounding a corner. Since Wesley's passing, no one has inspired me even to consider dallying with them. There was Donnic, who had shown that our relationship could move on to being more than guardsman and captain. He had been so kind… but I can never take that risk. No matter the heartache, my duty has to come first. Besides, I'm sure that any of my attempting at wooing him would merely be an embarrassment for all.

A loose pebble is kicked. I recognise the sound instantly, it jarring in my mind. Uttering a low curse for the lapse of focus, my hand instantly reaches over to grip the hilt of my sword. Someone clears their throat, blending in with the other sounds of the night for those with an untrained ear. I press myself up against the wall, ignoring the damp touch to it as I slow my breathing and inch closer to the nearest side street.

Wooden crates litter the floor, broken into a gross stew of cloth scraps and shattered glass with an extra helping of mud. A movement catches my eye. Hidden by the bigger lumps of debris, two figures crouch down, rocking slightly on the balls of their feet. I follow their gaze to a third figure as he in turn is peering at something further up the street. I spy on them as though observing a pack of wolves stalking their prey.

A prey that skips towards them and creates a sinking pull in the pit of my stomach.

Captured by the sight, I dwell on how petite her figure is made even more so by the houses seemingly looming over her. Merrill approaches, bare feet in the dirt making me cringe slightly. Happily oblivious, she saunters closer and, for a moment, I see everything around me drop away. The elf moves as though she were free to frolic through a forest, green attire swaying as gently as a falling leaf. I smile at her as she dances along.

"Now!" the rough snarl comes from the man in front, the scrape of metal being clumsily drawn snapping me out of it. The thugs tower over the Dalish elf. Merrill merely stands there, trapped like a deer with her wide emerald eyes. They pulse queerly and I remember that she is not quite the defenceless she portrays herself to be. That I try to believe she is.

"Oh, a mugging! How exciting!" doing my best to suppress a groan and the growing urge to head butt something very hard, I silently draw my sword. The men are so intent on Merrill, I can stalk behind them as they draw in closer around her.

"What you doing out o' your hole, my precious?" the first man, obviously the leader, snipes and snivels as he lewdly runs his eyes over her body. He strides close to her, reaching out his hand to grab hold of her wrist "Want us to help you find it?"

_That one dies first_, I think before I get a chance to reprimand myself. I grip my sword tighter and step into their line of sight, clearing my throat loud enough to make the trio jump.

"Problem?" I hear my voice, flat and emotionless, carry the full weight of my authority. It wipes the grimace from the smaller one's face as he flicks round and it dawns on him who has interrupted.

"Ah, my dear Guard Captain." A sickly smile pasted thin on his pockmarked face, he lets go of Merrill's wrist and wipes his nose as his cronies put their swords away. He looks vaguely familiar. But then again, all the scum in this place have started to blend in to one another.

"What's your name?" I step closer and take satisfaction when he shuffles back. I sheathe my blade to defuse the tension a little, but level him with a glare that Hawke once told me was just as deadly.

"Alter Vispus, at your service." He regains his composure and exaggerates a bow, sneer on his lips adding a mocking lilt to it. I check against my mental list of criminals. I take pride in the fact I can retain every snippet of information possible I learn about the criminal element in Kirkwall. This particular rat isn't even close to licking the boot of any major kingpin, despite his efforts I'm sure.

"Ah, one of the minor lackeys trying to get into Sharpe's gang, if I'm right?" Anger flits over his face before he wipes it away with another dab at his nose with his crusty sleeve. I barely manage to cover my contempt at how repulsive I find this man.

"Indeed you are, Captain. I'm flattered you know of me." His nasally tone grates on my nerves. I look at the two mute hulks just behind him to calm them. They look so plain, I don't bother asking their names.

"Indeed." I chance a gaze at Merrill, who I only just notice is gazing up at me with those enraptured eyes. It amazes me that she is able to turn anything in everyday life into a spectacle in her mind. With a firm shake of the head, I make myself return to the matter at hand and focus again on Vispus "So, is there a problem here?"

"No, no problem here. In fact, we're just making sure the young… lady got safely back to the Alienage. Weren't we, elf?" he goes to take her arm once more, eyes glued to her chest, the menacing snarl directed at Merrill making me grind my teeth.

"You were? Oh, well that's awfully kind of you but I'm sure I'll be fine, thank you." I roll my eyes, deciding to stop this nonsense and stepping between the thugs to grab hold of Merrill's hand before Vispus does. I get distracted by the elf interlocking her finger in mine and I have to blink a few times to get back on track.

"Actually gentleman, I need to speak to this elf." Almost yanking Merrill from her feet, I drag her away and pull her behind me before she can open her mouth anymore. Her penchant for blurting out the obvious, although undeniably cute at times, more often than not gets her into trouble and the last thing I need is more attention from Knight-Commander Meredith. I'd rather not give Merrill the chance to do anything unholy- Wait, did I just call her cute? "Umm, so if you'll excuse us…"

_Filthy knife ear lover_.

I barely catch the leader's mumble but it's just enough. Instantly incensed, I free my hand from Merrill's and swing around with all my might to crack him one with the back of my hand. He staggers back, giving a yelp more pathetic than a mangy dog's. Blood spews in a torrent from his crumpled nose as he stumbles over into one of his companions.

"Fuck you, Fereldan bitch!" he pulls a shank from behind his back but a surreal calm overtakes me when I see it headed for me. I embrace it, the feeling of utter confidence infilling me as it has done so often throughout the years. I manage to grab his wrist and use his own momentum to spin him, scattering all three men to the ground when I release him. With dramatic flair that would impress Varric, I swiftly draw my sword again.

"I may be from Fereldan but Kirkwall is my city! And by the Maker, I will make damn sure I rid it of blighted scum like you! Now, off home with you vermin and don't let me catch sight of you again!" I sink back against the wall to the sound of scurrying feet retreating around the corner. Shaking from waning adrenaline, I exhale with a breath I only now realise I was holding. Fatigue weighs my armour down, threatening to overwhelm me.

"Aveline?" I snap my head to meet the timid voice. A set of doe's eyes peer back at me, wide and dull with fright, as though facing the deadly point of a hunter's arrow. Squeezing my own eyes shut, I remove my gauntlet and go to wipe my brow. Merrill takes my hand before I can, holding it close to her chest while standing on her tiptoes to do it for me. The vibrant sparkle returns to her orbs as I smile back, erasing the worried look on her face.

"Well, that went pretty well didn't it?" Merrill begins to walk away, the skip returning to her step as she rambles on "I wish I could do a scary face like you could and make people run away! Umm, not that you have a bad face. I think you have a very nice face! That's if I can say that and it's-"

"Merrill, it's fine." the blush in the elf's cheeks grows and I can't help but give out a little chuckle as I follow her "Don't you think you should go home now? It's late."

"It's not that late. I'm going to go meet Varric and Isabela and Hawke and umm… I think Fenris might be there, if he's not being moody." Stopping dead in front of me, she bounces on the spot until I grab her shoulders to still her.

"Whoa, calm down there. You'll hurt yourself." Damn, her energy is infectious as that pout is adorable.

"You should join us! It will be nice to get us all together. I don't think Anders will be there. I want to go ask him, but I don't think he likes me very much." her lower lip is trembling. I can't understand why anyone in their right mind couldn't love her, the blood mage thing aside. Maker, _why am I thinking these things_?

"Umm, well you know I'm on duty." I glance back over my shoulder, planning the route I should have taken tonight. The clean alleyway seems like a wistful dream and I know the smell of this one needs to be scrubbed from me. I jump when Merrill touches my hand.

"No, Aveline, you finished almost an hour ago. Remember? Well, that's when you normally finish." I quirk my brow at the comment but she ignores it "And I thought I was forgetful! But I suppose it's because you're so passionate and everything. Oh, come on, please?"

"Maybe." I hope my tone is convincing, but somehow I doubt it. If Merrill notices, she doesn't let it show. Instead she cocks her head to the side, staring at me until I squirm a little in discomfort. Then, seeming to have made a decision, she leaps at me skittishly and kisses my cheek before launching into her peculiar skip once more. Left frozen there with a queer bubbling sensation in my stomach, all I can do is watch her go and hear her mutter something about string.

Perhaps a drink would be nice, after all.

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**Reviews are yummy.**

**~ Georgia.**


	2. Chapter 2

The silence of the night bids a hasty retreat as I step into the Hanged Man, the noise echoing especially loud in my mind. I linger in the doorway and survey the room, the acrid smell hovering like thick smoke. The place is packed, even for the late hour. A frown forms on my face as I turn to exit, confused as to why I decided to come here.

"Oi, big girl!" Isabela's sweet sirens call mixes with my sigh and I reluctantly turn back to pick out her face. A gathering crowd obscures her at first but I pay them no heed and pick my way around them to the table behind, being greeted with the sight of the dishevelled looking pirate. Well, more than the usual dishevelment. I sit down and reach out to rearrange her top, making sure her ample bosom doesn't come out to play.

"Prig!" she says, an affectionate smile taking any seriousness away from the statement. I attempt to muster a weak smile, covering up the failure by snatching her ale and downing it in one. "What's up biggun'?"

"Nothing, Isabela. Just tired from patrol." She looks at me, a queer smile fixed on her lips as she takes a look over my shoulder. A cheer goes up from the crowd behind me but I ignore it, fixed on the bottom of the mug. Silence hangs comfortably between us until my head snaps up at the sound of the other woman's chair being scraped back. Rubbing my eyes, I watch as Isabela leans over the bar, getting another two drinks as Corff is turned away. I chuckle as he turns back, catching her in the act, and accepts payment in form of the pirate flashing him.

She ignores me as I shake my head in disbelief, shrugging as she places one of the mugs down in front of me, leaping up to perch on the table beside me. My mind is drawn back to the events earlier tonight, the vision of Merrill's skipping form swirling in the top of my drink. I hurriedly gulp it down and shake my head clear with a slight yawn. A chuckle makes me look up into startlingly knowing brown orbs. Even I struggle with the temptation to stare at the bust currently at my eye level.

"I didn't realise being a hero was _so_ tiring." Isabela curls her tongue and finishes her drink with a grimace. She jumps down from the table, using my shoulder to brace herself when she staggers a bit too far, then nods in the direction of the group. Before I can even raise an eyebrow at her actions, she sashays away, instantly attaching herself to a bewildered young man. I see her steering him towards the stairs before I squeeze my eye shut, rubbing a hand over my face as a wave of fatigue washes over me. I get to my feet, intent on actually leaving this time.

"Go on, elf. Tell us again." A bearded man grunts, spilling his drink down himself. I stop and step closer, taking my first good look at the gathered people around the table. I see Varric, Anders and Fenris mixed in with a few unfamiliar faces. All wear the same amused grin except Fenris, who looks as steel-faced as ever.

"Well, umm, I suppose I could." An all too familiar voice travels out from the far side of the table, but they are blocked from view by the rest of the crowd. I try to muscle between the row of listening men "So, I was trying to get home and got, well, got a bit lost because I can't remember where I put the string Varric gave me. I swear I thought I took the right turn, honest, but I don't think it was because, well, as I walking along a load of men jumped out at me. They were all really, really big and had really sharp swords and stuff…"

"Ha, this next bit is hilarious!" a man shouts out, earning him a clout around the ears and a threat to shut up. He shuffles off, grumbling, and I finally see the speaker. Merrill is standing, staring at her wringing fingers. A wrench in my chest makes me clench my fists.

"Yes, well, I was quite scared but it was just like a mugging. I thought it was great because maybe I'm finally fitting in… then, all of a sudden, Aveline came out with her big sword and fought against all of them at once! And won!" the laughter from the men shoots down the mirth in her eyes, and she shrinks back a little. I want to leave, leave them all to their own amusements, but my attention is snared by the look on Merrill's face. She looks so lost and confused. So vulnerable.

"Ha, like the Guard Captain would trouble with the like of you." One of the drunks snorts as the crowd disperses. I remain, wondering if I should say anything. Varric coughs, making both of us turn his way.

"Just wanted to wish you goodnight, ladies." the dwarf winks at me then slaps a startled Anders and Fenris on the back, sending them stumbling in to one another with heated glares. Merrill steps to follow them but then notices me, her focus going back down to her hands.

"Oh, hello. Umm, you heard that, didn't you?" I can't think of anything to do but to fold my arms and nod "I was only trying to tell a story. Like Hahren Paivel or Varric. Well, not Varric. I can't do stories like him and I don't think most of his are true anyway. Umm, sorry I-"

"Merrill, calm down. It's okay. But don't you think it's time you went home?" I rest my hand on her shoulder, to try and remove the sting I can hear in my voice. The small elf looks at me, then at my hand.

A heartbeat of silence is broken when a chair is sent crashing to the ground by a drunk. Merrill totters into me with a little yelp. By instinct, my arms wrap around her and draw her close. Gleaming, wild eyes look up at me, accompanied with a wide smile, as the elf relaxes into me. I remain frozen and panicked.

It's at this moment Isabela decides to surface, a discontent frown on her face as she shoves the young man down the stairs and watches him scarper. Although as soon as her gaze settles in our direction, her face lights up with glee.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" a knowing grin threatens to split her face. I quickly release the elf, trying to ignore how her body sags as I hastily step away. There is a queering kicking in my chest and I restrain myself from reaching out for her again.

"Merrill, you better be off home." I hear the iron in my voice and hide a cringe. Far too many things are racing through my mind and I just need to get out of here. "The same goes for me too. I have some reports to do."

_I did something wrong again, didn't I?_ I hear Merrill say, a tremble in her voice, as two sets of eyes bore into my retreating back. Isabela's response is drowned out by a cheer from the doorway as Hawke enters. The Champion opens his mouth to speak to me but I shoulder my way past him and out of the Hanged Man.

Turning the corner, I press up against the wall and hold my breath. I close my eyes and release it as I allow myself to settle. The night air is cool, washing the heat from me and the raging of my thoughts dies down. I fix on the idea of completing those reports the Seneschal wanted done, excluding access to any other stray thoughts as I start out back to the Keep.

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Stopping, I roll my shoulders to try rid myself of the ache. Yes, the stairs were a strategically good point to Kirkwall, but why did there have to be so bloody many? Looking out over the top of Lowtown, I freeze. A scattering stone, knocked free from a step behind me, indicates a presence behind me. Cursing at myself for being so distracted, I lash around to be faced with a very sober and very serious looking Isabela.

"Guard Captain." The tense formality in her words hurt me somehow, more than her usual insulting titles for me would.

"Isabela…" I allow my voice to trail off as the pirate steps past before turning back, looking down on me. I shuffle my feet as the silence grows, the wind whipping around us "What do you want?"

"For you to stop messing around. For you to actually give in and go get what you want." The downturn of her lips, the hand on her hip and her piercing glare tell me that she's not about to let this go. But I ignore it, my pride refusing to acknowledge her words.

"What I want, _Isabela_, is to get back to my office. Goodnight." I rub one of my bare arms the step around her to continue up the remainder of the steps. Breaking out onto the market square, I look up as globs of rain begin to fall from the sky. Great.

Suddenly, I am shoved under the canopy of one of the market stalls. I struggle against the hands gripping my arms, dimly wondering which stall it is. Abruptly, I am twisted around to face Isabela, held in place by a surprisingly strong hold.

"You may be one of the best captains of the guard Kirkwall has ever had, but first and foremost you are a deluded fool! You can try your hardest to eat, sleep and live duty, but you cannot live on that alone!" Isabela's voice is filled with anger yet her eyes are filled with a frustrated compassion. I go to speak but a sharp nudge back into the stall's counter silences me "No, you are going to listen to me! You're miserable, Aveline. You need to get out of that armoured shell. Stop hiding."

Her words sink in, releasing so many emotions I can hardly focus. The retort I had on my tongue dies and what voice does manage to come out, I don't recognise as my own: "But… Wesley-"

"Wesley is dead! What respect are you showing him by moping all the time?" her grip on my arms is beginning to hurt, the cold making it a numb ache that fits in well with everything else I feel.

"Be quiet, whore! What do you know of this? Of… love?" Isabela shakes her head and releases hold of me, dropping her stare down to the ground.

"I know what I am and I know what I want. Love is… not for me. But you deserve better, Aveline." She looks up at me, wearing a pitying smile "Merrill deserves better."

"What has Merrill got to do with this?" My heart skips a beat, my stomach squirms and I swear my every though is visible to the pirate as her eyes pierce me.

"Oh, big girl… You know Merrill has everything to do with this." With that, Isabela saunters off in the vague direction of the Blooming Rose. I step out from under the canopy into the now bucketing rain, shivering. Whether from the rain or not, I can't tell.

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**Reviews are appreciated.**

**~ Georgia.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I know this isn't the best ending and it's a little short. But unfortunatly I lost inspiration.**

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The taste of this whiskey is vile. It burns my throat as it has never done before. I know that it was fine the previous two days, so it should be fine now. I get an urge to fling the decanter at the wall. I spin, yet halt a second before it leaves my hands. With a flash, I remember. It was a present from Wesley.

Placing it back on a shelf with a sigh, I go and sink into my chair and rest my head in my hands. Wesley. It has been so long since I thought about him: his smile, his touch…. all those sentimental things. Time enough has passed since his death, yet I still proclaim to cling onto his memory with all of my being. Truth be told... I could quite easily forget him now, if I tried.

I did love him. He was kind, sweet, righteous… the man who reflected all the values I still stand for. But there was never a huge spark, that special something. Not like the feelings somebody else-

Cutting off my train of thought, my eyes drift up to stare out of the window absently. I watch the stars fading through the rain, as hours past midnight increase. Today has been a long day, as if all my grief, my anger, my reality has exploded in one cataclysm.

A knock at the door draws me out of my reverie. I do a quick spot check of my office, habit drilled into me. I line up the papers on my desk. I wish I had my armour on.

"Enter." The thought occurs to me: who would call at this hour and in this weather? I frown as the door jerks open, as though someone was straining to open it. Spindly finger wrap around the edge, clinging to it like a shield. Slowly, a childish face pokes around it and into view.

"M-Merrill?" I truly believe that the elf's eyes could be emeralds the size of my fists, the way she is looking at me. She tiptoes in, stopping in the centre of the room, dripping a trail of water in her wake. Drowned rat come to mind but I reject it when the image clashes with how beautiful she looks. Sighing at the though, I shake my head clear once again.

I grab a spare blanket from a chest and go to her, hesitating for a moment before wrapping it around her. Instead of finding something to say, I look down at her feet. Despite being bare, they look perfectly clean, apart from a mossy tinge on her soles.

"Merrill, what are you doing here?" I manage to tear my gaze away and spew out the sentence before my throat closes up with nerves. The elf shivers as I wrap my arms tighter around her, rubbing her shoulders. She looks up at me, looking as surprised to be here than I feel at her being here. Feeling her leaning in to me, I muse that she fits perfectly.

"I thought… I thought maybe I had done something wrong." Great, big tears form in her eyes and she buries her face into my shirt. Instead of freezing up once again, I act. I pick her up, noting that she weighs next to nothing, and carry her over to my desk. I sit down, pulling her onto my lap and wrapping the blanket tighter around her. I'm not sure if she's shivering from the damp cold or from the sobs racking her small frame.

"I'm sorry." Merrill whispers as she buries her face into my shirt, her words muffled by it. A bead of rain rolling down her neck transfixes me. I watch it disappear under her clothing before her words sink in.

"What?" I mumble, genuinely puzzled. Though whether at her words or the act of me cupping her cheek with tenderness I didn't know I possessed, I'm not sure. I pull her face up to look up at me.

"I don't know why I'm here." She blinks at me before she starts to choke up with tears again "I was going to say sorry for whatever I may have done but then I found I just wanted to be here."

"I am… glad you are here." Her eyes brighten and a smile blossoms on her face. The lines of ink on her face are intriguing, even though they are tear-stained. I follow one with the tip of my finger, dropping it when it goes close to her lips.

"Really?" Even though my heart is pounding at the though, I realise that I actually am. I bow my head before I nod. Suddenly, I feel the warmth of breath on my cheek, a split second before Merrill presses her lips there in a sweet kiss.

My instant reaction is to push her away. As I go to do so, a shiny trinket catches my eye. I remember the day Wesley gave it to me and I hear Isabela's voice resonating in my head once again. Damn pirate. Picking up the elf again, I perch her on the edge of my desk and begin to dry her hair with the blanket. I stop after a moment and idly play with a strand of her hair.

"Aveline?" I look down at those emeralds, a smile coming unbidden to my lips. I notice her wringing her fingers, the knuckle cracking. I raise an eyebrow at her and wrap my own hands over hers. She gives me another beaming smile "I quite like you."

"I like you too, Merrill." I surprise both of us when I lean in and place a kiss on her lips. So soft, I regret pulling away but a grin is plastered on my face nonetheless. Then a thought comes to me "Although, lets not tell anyone just yet."

"Too late."

_Damn pirate._

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**Reviews are appreciated.**

**~ Georgia.**


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